Reason for Breathing
by Rei Minomiko
Summary: Another push of the self-destruct button has destroyed Heero's and Duo's relationship...or has it?


Disclaimer: The fic is the only thing that's mine; characters and song aren't, unfortunately. All rights to all of these belong to their rightful owners, so don't bug me!  
  
Notes: I've tried and tried to create a fic that involves a love triangle between Heero, Duo, and a resurrected Solo but I just can't seem to finish it. Oh, well...   
Ok, this fic is based on Babyface's song "Reason for Breathing", which, in my humble opinion, is the PERFECT pining song for Heero. Can you just imagine the Perfect Soldier during sleepless nights? * shivers *  
Hey, minna! It's me again! * smiles * I actually wrote this songfic back when I was still in highschool, under my previous pen name Kaia Maxwell Yuy. I figured I should just post this up.   
  
Warnings: Very OOC in Heero's and a slight case in Trowa's and Quatre's parts, but these are quite justifiable. We all know just how much Heero loves Duo that he tends to, uh, act rather homicidal. And to Trowa and Quatre, hell, they drink right? It's only natural that they know how to smoke, too!   
  
--- shows lyrics  
  
Reason for Breathing by rei-chan  
  
Biting his lip with a little more force than necessary, Quatre Winner worriedly eyed the closed door of his comrade's quarters, wishing with all his might for the millionth time that he knew what was going on behind it. It had been almost two weeks now since Heero Yuy had come home from his last mission, but still the cobalt-eyed pilot had not uttered a single word as to what had happened to him and his partner Duo Maxwell to result into this sudden withdrawal. Heero had arrived back at the base badly wounded, almost to the point of unconsciousness, that it had taken Quatre, Trowa Barton, and Chang Wufei all their strength to squeeze him out of Deathscythe's (Yes, Deathscythe! Wing was conspicuously missing when the two pilots arrived) cockpit and into the comforts of his own bed. Duo had impassively looked on while they lugged their heavy burden inside, then merely logged in his latest mission readings and left, leaving his lover in the hands of the three very stunned pilots, who were all so used to Duo's fussing--and ranting--at Heero after sorties. Not a word has been heard from the longhaired pilot since that night. Quatre could sense that 'something' serious had occurred on that last mission, but he just couldn't seem to place a finger on it. Again he eyed Heero's room, his anxiousness building up with each passing moment. 'What the hell is going on in there?'  
  
He suddenly jumped when a warm hand touched his shoulder, albeit very gently. Surprised he spun around suddenly to find himself staring straight at a pair of emerald eyes. Trowa's eyes. His co-pilot's normally impassive facade had faint traces of worry. "Has he come out yet?" the Heavyarms pilot asked, softly, casting a weary eye at the still-closed door leading to Heero's room.  
  
Quatre shook his silky blond head, murmuring, "No," and looking down at his neatly clasped hands. Absently he began fiddling with his thumbs, as he always does when nervous. A soft sigh came from the brown-haired boy. "You heard from HIM yet?" Quatre asked impulsively, though inside he knew what his partner's answer would be. In addition to deserting his lover, Duo had also left behind his wrist unit, making it almost impossible for the other pilots to track the elusive braided idiot. Which was probably his intention...  
  
It was Trowa's turn to shake his head, the swift movement somehow not disturbing the long bangs hanging over his left eye. "Wufei and Howard are working on tracking him down, but you know Duo. If he doesn't want to be found, even the furies from hell won't have any luck." He told the other boy quietly, his gaze fixed intently on the still-closed doors leading to Heero's quarters. There was no sound coming from behind the door, nothing to indicate that there was a living person inside it. Quatre bit his lip in worry, but forced himself to respond calmly.  
  
"Sou ka."  
  
The two fell in a distressed silence, lost in their own thoughts, until distinct banging sounds were heard coming from Heero's room. It sounded like someone was tearing the place up inside! Exchanging wide-eyed glances, the two pilots hurriedly ran toward the door and opened it, fearing what they would see. What they saw made their mouths drop open in shock.  
  
---If I cry like a baby, would you change your mind?  
If I told you I'm crazy, would you come running back to me?  
The harder I try to break away, the more I get lost in yesterday.  
The man that you knew is just a shadow, living without you life is hell...  
  
Heero's eyes were trained intently on the computer screen, unseeing. In front of him, the machine was bleeping and clacking like crazy, but the Perfect Soldier was too lost in his thoughts to actually notice that his fourth mission logistics and details had just arrived.   
  
'Duo's gone...'  
  
OOOO  
  
The mission logs that came in two weeks ago were quite simple. Blow up one of Oz's new research facilities. To the boys, the task was a walk in the park by all means. It was quite easy to infiltrate an Oz base, and blowing it up would be a breeze. In fact that job in particular was Heero's and Duo's expertise. The only thing that was unaccounted for were the overwhelming number of mobile suits sent to stop the Gundams from completing their mission after the two had initiated their attack. Wing and Deathscythe had put on a good fight at first, but after a few minutes they were easily outnumbered, around a hundred fifty to one. It was then that Heero decided on a solution.  
  
==ESTABLISHING COMM LINK FROM 01 TO O2...==  
  
'02, this is 01. 02 do you copy?"  
  
"Haiiiiii!!! 02 in! What's your next course of action, Oh-great-one?"  
  
"We are outnumbered. Shift to plan C-6. I repeat, shift to plan C-6."  
  
"Hmm? Ah, wait...C-6, C-6...FUCK! No way! Heero are you insane?!"  
  
"No, Duo. This battle is as good as lost. I have to do this. For the mission."  
  
"Fuck the mission, Heero! This is supposed to be cake! No one has to die!"  
  
"Well in this case I have to. All data and information I have collected are being sent to your Gundam now. You will be in charge after this."  
  
"Bullshit, Heero! If you go on with this, I swear I'll never speak to you again!"  
  
"Stop being so childish. We're soldiers. The mission should come first before anything else. Now shut up and listen. After I self-destruct, blow up the base. The explosion you would cause would be enough to wipe out the remaining suits at the other end."  
  
"Damn you, Yuy! I won't fucking do it!"  
  
"You have to. And you will."  
  
==END TRANSMISSION==  
  
So he did what he had to do. He self-destructed. And like the result of all his other attempts in the past, he didn't die. Only Wing suffered all the consequences. The poor Gundam was once again blown to a hundred pieces, but Heero, although badly injured, was still alive. He couldn't remember anything that had happened after he pushed that gray button. The next thing he knew he was recuperating on is bed, with a fretting Quatre manning his bedside. Duo was nowhere to be seen. Heero had the nagging suspicion that the Deathscythe pilot meant every word he said when he told him that he would never speak to him again. 'He knows that I'd never manage to self-destruct.' He thought to himself, his lips twisting in a half-attempt to smile at the pun.  
  
'No way!! Heero, are you insane?' His lover's unbelieving voice echoed back in his mind as his tired cobalt eyes drifted shut in an attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to fall, all efforts of pretense withering away. Mentally, he found himself responding, 'Yes, Duo. I am insane. I knew that if I didn't do what I had to do, you'd get hurt. And protecting you always comes first before any mission. If you die, I die as well.' A trickle of that warm liquid seeped from the corners of his closed eyes, despite his valiant attempts to stop it. Cursing, he flung himself out of his desk chair to land hard on his bed, his tousled head resting in his arms as his exhausted body started shuddering with wracking sobs. Duo was his life. Without the braided pilot, there was nothing left to live for!  
  
The first few days after he had regained consciousness, he had tried to divorce himself from the pain the Duo-sized hole in his heart brought to him. He tried to ignore the huge emptiness he felt inside and went about his usual business. But his ache and longing finally took its toll one night when he woke up from a nightmare, badly in need of reassurance and love, to find the other side of his huge bed empty. The memory of what he felt that night made him cry even harder, his sobs growing progressively louder every passing second. Jesus, there he was, Heero Yuy, seasoned guerilla fighter and assassin, crying like a baby because his lover-his male lover-decided not to have anything to do with him anymore! What a pathetic show of weakness!   
  
'But it doesn't matter now!' He screamed to himself, as another loud sob tore through his throat and his body shook once more. 'No matter how hard you cry, no matter how many times you admit to yourself that you're crazy, Duo will never come back! NEVER! And it's all your fault, Yuy!' That last thought sent the so-called Perfect Soldier to the edge. With a brain-rattling cry he stood up and forcefully shoved his desk aside. His black laptop fell on the floor, along with all his books and other belongings, and several trays of moldy, untouched food. His bed was turned over in one swift motion, and when that wasn't enough to satisfy his anger, he stormed over to the wall and banged his fist on it, so hard that he felt his own bones creak in protest.  
  
The door flew open, and in flew Trowa and Quatre, both with wild looks on their faces as they surveyed the wreckage he had caused. Heero's back was resting against the wall, his throbbing fist cradled in his other arm as he hit his own head hard against the wall's solid surface. The physical pain wasn't enough to cover up the fact that he would never be happy again, not without Duo around. Duo. His life. Slowly the dark-haired boy sank to the floor and cried.  
  
'DUO!!!'  
  
---I turned on the radio just to take the hurt away  
Another night and I'm missing you  
(Girl) It's killing me, well...  
I don't wanna die tonight, but I think I might be going down.  
'Coz the only one I ever cared about is nowhere to be found...  
  
Later that night, Heero found himself sitting alone in the hangar, clad only in boxers and a sleeping tee. After his near-hysterical display that afternoon it had taken his friends a long time to finally calm him down. Crying was a rare emotion for Heero Yuy, and when he starts, even the fires of hell can't make him stop. It was hard trying to control the raging emotions welling up from inside him. Quatre had reassured him over and over that they were doing all they can to find Duo, and that he had nothing to worry about. Trowa had complied by taking him into his arms and comforting him, which was a rare reaction from the taller boy, indeed, because Trowa wasn't known for his comforting abilities outside the confines of his and Quatre's room. Wufei, who had been summoned by the loud cries coming from the bedrooms upstairs, looked on with anxiety, his onyx eyes betraying the pity and sadness he felt for his comrade. The Wing pilot was thankful for his friends' presence, for if it weren't for their care and concern he would have fled to find a nice, quite place to self-destruct, making sure he would finally manage to do it right, just to end everything once and for all. The thought of dying seemed welcoming, much more reassuring than facing an entire lifetime without his soul's essence with him.  
  
Being accustomed to Duo's loudmouthed chatter and endless monologues, it was a bit unnerving for Heero to find himself alone in the middle of silence. Looking around the huge room, his Prussian blue eyes fell on a tiny cassette player lying innocently on top of Wufei's toolbox. Shrugging to himself, he walked over to where the contraption was sitting and picked it up, and having nothing else to do than sit and mope, turned it on.  
  
A soft, soothing melody was playing. Heero strained his ears as the singer started belting out the lyrics. He started laughing softly to himself when he heard that the words were in Chinese. He never knew the Shenlong pilot to be a music buff.  
  
Long, slender fingers probed the contours of the player until they found the knob. Fiddling with it, Heero listened out for a song that he may like. His fingers froze when one of Duo's favorite songs came on. It was the one the braided boy had insisted on playing over and over again on his stereo system, much to Heero's dismay. Cobalt eyes threatened to fill up with tears again, but he quashed the feeling forcefully. God knows what horrid things he could do while caught up in hysteria, especially with the Gundams parked just a few feet away from him. He might blow the whole base up.  
  
He slowly trudged back to where he was sitting earlier, at Deathscythe's feet, and cradling the portable player in his arms, sat down and closed his eyes. He was actually wishing with all his might that it was Duo he was holding, Duo who was singing to him, as the braided boy often did so when left with nothing else to chatter about. For a few moments he cherished the feeling, until realization dawned on him that what he was actually holding up against his cheek was nothing but a small metal contraption, devoid of warmth and feeling. The things that he was actually craving for that time.  
  
In spite of his resolution not to cry, the dark-haired boy was helpless when a fresh new batch of tears started falling from his beautiful eyes. He hurt, yes, a lot, inside and out, yet there was nothing in the world that can take the pain away. Well, there was one thing, but it didn't seem like Duo was in a hurry to come back. So, the only solution left to do was cry. And that's exactly what he did.  
  
It took a long time for his tears to subside, but then again, why shouldn't it? Duo was gone, and there was nothing Heero could do to bring him back. At least the tears helped ease him a little. Now he understood why a lot of people shed them. Those few precious liquid droplets bring a great amount of temporary relief, a few seconds of acceptance and calm as he struggled to get used to the idea of Duo not being with him anymore.  
  
A few seconds of acceptance, that his existence meant nothing anymore, because the only thing-the only person-that made up his life, was gone...  
  
Duo...  
  
---I don't wanna close my eyes, because I might not see the light of day  
I'm almost out of air, you're my reason for breathing,  
You're my reason for breathing...  
  
The next morning, a yawning Wufei walked towards the rear hangar, intent on doing minor repairs on his beloved Shenlong as he waited for any news about his missing braided comrade. Howard had promised to inform the boys as soon as he heard something, and he didn't want to be too busy when the old man did so. Heero's attitude was starting to scare the wits out of all of them, and he, Quatre and Trowa had agreed among themselves that finding the Deathscythe pilot as soon as possible was necessary, if they still want to keep Heero's sanity intact. Deep inside, the Chinese scholar was afraid that his friend indeed might lose it, with all the stunts that he had been pulling lately. With Duo gone, they were not only missing one dedicated and efficient soldier.   
  
They were missing two.  
  
Reaching his working table, Wufei proceeded to hunt around the area for his portable tape player [1], his constant companion when working, rooting around inside his toolbox for the small device. He shrugged when his search came out with nothing. 'Oh, well,' he thought to himself as he walked towards Shenlong, screwdriver in hand, 'The silence isn't too bad.' A small smile spread across his lips. 'One of the quirks of Duo's absence, I suppose.'  
  
Soft music caught his ears as he was about to climb up his Gundam. 'My cassette!' Onyx eyes scanned the room expertly for the small music box, intent on finding where the sound was coming from. It must have slipped his mind that he placed the player somewhere yesterday. Heero's hysterics had messed his sense of organization the last time. A shoe peeking out from the shadows caught his attention. It was Heero, curled up in a fetal position under Duo's Deathscythe, fast asleep.   
  
Immediately Wufei was back on level ground and hurrying towards his commanding officer, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down at the Perfect Soldier's pitiful form. He prayed that what he was seeing wouldn't jive with the morbid thoughts playing inside his head. Heero looked terrible. There were dark circles under his eyes, and the lack of food was starting to wither down his once-perfect physique. In fact, Wufei had to blink to make sure that he wasn't imagining things, Heero looked thinner than even Quatre himself! And the Arabian pilot was a lot shorter than the dark-haired boy. He looked closely at Heero to make sure he was still breathing. He checked around the Wing pilot for traces of blood, and, finding nothing, exhaled a soft sigh of relief.  
  
He reached Heero's resting area in a matter of seconds, his heart pounding rapidly as he continued to stare at the other pilot. After a few moments of hesitation, he leaned forward and nudged his comrade gently on the shoulder. "Heero?" he called softly, slightly leaning forward to his friend's sleeping form.  
  
Tired Prussian eyes blinked open, surprised. "Wh-wha?!" the sleepy pilot groaned.  
  
Wufei peered worriedly at him. "Daijoubou ka?" he inquired, briefly touching the other boy's shoulder with a slight hesitation. Waking Heero up was considered suicide, since the Perfect Soldier slept with a fully loaded Beretta under his pillow on normal nights. It was indeed a wonder that Wufei's head was still intact at that same moment.  
  
Heero seemed incoherent for a couple more seconds, before he blinked and smiled slightly. The Chinese man almost reeled in shock. Heero _smiled_? Jesus, the boy indeed was starting to lose it! They had to find Duo, and fast!   
  
"Hai, Wufei. I'm alright. I just had a lot of trouble sleeping last night." His cobalt eyes wandered around the room for a while, surveying the area, bemusement etched on his face, then suddenly dropped to his still clasped hands were his friend's radio was still playing. "G-gomen about the player, Wufei. The silence last night was deafening." Shakily he held out the contraption.  
  
Wufei eyed his friend for a few more seconds before reaching out to take the cassette player. "It's ok." He muttered, trying to swallow the huge lump forming in his throat as he saw the tear tracks running down the dark-haired boy's cheeks. His own heart ached for his friend. "Why don't you go upstairs and get some more sleep? You looked really uncomfortable down here." He gestured towards the metallic foot of Deathscythe.  
  
Heero smiled again before gingerly standing up to stretch. "Yes. I think I should. Arigatou." And with that, he quietly left.  
  
The Chinese boy stared hard at Heero's retreating form, his face a mask of a million emotions. 'Gods, this can't be happening,' he unbelievingly thought, taking deep breaths in order to calm his racing heart. 'Duo, where the hell are you?!'  
  
---I don't wanna go clubbing, 'coz I've got no one to dance with me  
And I don't wanna go shopping, 'coz I've got no one to spend my money on...  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Heero? It would do you some good, you know. You've been cooped up in the headquarters for God knows how long already." Quatre proposed for about the millionth time that night. He, Trowa, and Wufei were getting ready for a trip to town to buy some supplies that they would probably be needing, as well as to have a look around and indulge in some fun. The blond pilot had intended to bring the ailing boy with them in order for Heero to forget about his problems for a while, but from the looks of it, no persuasion would be enough to convince the Wing pilot to set foot out of the house.  
  
Heero shook his head as he watched his three friends bustle around the lounge, putting on their coats and shoes. "Aa. I'll be fine."  
  
Wufei had told the other two what he saw that morning, and the three of them had shared the same sentiment that Heero was indeed starting to show signs of being disturbed. The realization shook Quatre so bad that it took Trowa a long time to calm him down.  
  
"Are you sure?" Trowa's quiet voice broke out from the silence, his one eye trained on Heero, who was at that moment sitting motionless on the sofa, looking out the window. A curt nod was what he received as an answer.  
  
Wufei was watching the exchange intently. "Well," he announced as he walked over to open the front door, "We'll be back by midnight. Don't do anything stupid." He couldn't help but add the last part. From what he had been observing the past few days, it would be a complete miracle if they came back that night with Heero still in one piece. Or breathing, for that matter. Forcefully he quashed his rising alarm.  
  
The Wing pilot smiled that sad smile of his again. "I won't." he assured his friends, still staring intently at the inky black sky from the window beside the bay area. A flash of pain crossed his face, before it was covered up with its usual blankness. "I'll still be alive when you get back, don't worry."  
  
Quatre bit his lip. Trowa was emotionless, as usual, and Wufei was on the verge of shutting the door and declaring that he was not going anywhere that night, when Heero's expressionless mask suddenly slipped back in place. That familiar cold gesture was like a beacon of light to all of them. Heero was still normal--or as normal as Heero could ever get.   
  
Still.  
  
At this all three broke out into relieved sighs. Calling out their final goodbyes, they exited the front door and left.  
  
'What to do now?' Heero wondered, his eyes still trained out the window. Car doors slammed outside, and a moment later, someone revved up the engine. His friends were on their way.  
  
"What can I do here in an empty house?" He asked himself out loud once sure that he was alone, finally removing his gaze from the window and looking around the room for something that might interest him. Several empty bottles of beer peeking out from behind the coffee table caught his eye, and he smiled slightly. 'Probably leftovers from our last booze fest. That day when Duo had'-He shook his head hard. No, he would not think about him. Not now. He needed to forget, at least for a while. Reaching a decision, he stood up, reflexes still fast despite his aching heart, and exited the lounge area. His footsteps were full of purpose as he walked down the narrow stairs leading to the bar.  
  
---Spending my time, with one glass of wine  
Playing solitaire just to eat my time  
Pour one for you, but I drink that, too  
Anything to ease the pain of losing you, oh baby...  
  
12 beers, 5 vodka shots, and 2 brandy bottles later, Heero was red in the face with all the alcohol mingling with his blood. His eyes were having trouble focusing already as he placed the last card carefully back down on the pile, and with a slight slur, crowed happily, "Another win!" before he started laughing hysterically.  
  
Beads of sweat were dotting his forehead and face as he started shuffling the cards again, intent on starting another game. He noticed that the glasses in front of him were empty, and without letting go of the deck he reached one hand forward to grab a fresh bottle of brandy to pour some more in his glass. Without even stopping to think about it, he automatically poured some of the burning liquor into the other one as well. Finally putting down the card deck, Heero raised his glass, as if to propose a toast. "To you." He mumbled, and with a small smile directed to the empty chair sitting across him, he downed the searing liquid in one gulp. Putting down his wineglass, he tilted his head to one side, as if pondering. "What's the matter, koi? Don't you want yours?" He asked to no one in particular, still staring at the wooden chair. Shrugging, he picked up the still full glass and drank all of its contents, clumsily spilling some on the front of his shirt.  
  
Spots started dancing in front of his eyes as Heero looked down on the coffee table, blinking back bleary eyes as he did so. 'I never noticed that the base is tilted in such an angle!' He thought to himself as his brain sluggishly tried to focus. 'Did I drink that much already?' His mind was reeling with too much alcohol. "Damn you, Duo! If you didn't leave me, I wouldn't be doing this!" he exclaimed, all the pent-up pain and frustration streaming out of his mouth as he lunged forward to the empty chair, the booze clogging his logical thinking. "Do you LIKE doing this to me, Duo? Do you like seeing me like this? Do you? Huh?! Answer me, goddamnit!" Heero screamed. Bottles and broken glass shards scattered all over the clean wooden floor as the table capsized, spilling cards all over.  
  
He landed on the solid wooden floor with a loud thud, the chair crashing down over him. His eyes were suspiciously wet again, but this time he didn't care. He missed his koibito so much, so much that it hurt even to just think about him.  
  
His quiet sobs echoed across the silent, uncaring room.  
  
---So I'm reaching out on this distant line  
Open deep inside, your heart's gonna find a reason  
To keep me breathing...  
  
Quatre peeked out the double doors leading to the hangar and saw a shadow moving about. Quietly he eased his slender frame through the doors and approached the figure, only to be greeted by the foul smell of burning nicotine. Dumbstruck, he stared at the tall figure with his back turned looming in front of him.  
  
"Trowa, are you smoking?" he demanded, enraged.  
  
Trowa Barton's whole body whipped around so fast that he almost snapped into two. Seeing Quatre's seething baby blue eyes, he smiled guiltily before nodding.  
  
"WHY?!" The Arabian pilot fumed.  
  
The Heavyarms pilot turned back towards the railing and flicked his wrist, watching the dying embers from his cigarette land on the tiled floor of the hangar. "Gomen, Quatre." He apologized quietly, eyes downcast. His right hand continued to hold on to the thin stick of sin. "I-I just got so upset with what I found out earlier, that's all."  
  
He felt Quatre move forward to stand beside him. "What was it?" his partner asked gently, all anger about the cigar completely forgotten as he focused on the troubled boy standing on his side. A soft, warm hand reached up to gently stroke his tense shoulder.  
  
Trowa turned to look at his lover, his one visible eye tight with worry. "Howard found Duo this morning." He began. He raised the cigarette and took a long drag. His slender hands were shaking ever so slightly. Absently the Arabian boy looked down on the floor, and with a small defeated sigh looked up again after finding about five cigarette butts scattered all over the clean floor. Instead he beamed back at Trowa with an expression of delight on his face. "That's great!" he cried out ecstatically, but upon seeing the taller boy's disconsolate expression, immediately sobered. "Or is it?"  
  
Trowa shook his head. "Apparently, Duo had decided not to come back, at least not until Heero realizes that there's more to his life than his missions. He bluntly told Howard to tell Heero that he didn't give a fuck about him anymore, at least not until he vows never to touch that goddamned self-destruct button unless extremely necessary."  
  
Quatre looked thoughtful as Trowa finished talking. What the Deathscythe pilot was asking from his lover was impossible. The Wing pilot was attracted to that button like a moth is to light. "Knowing Heero, that would never happen." He mused.   
  
Trowa looked down seriously at him. "Knowing Duo, he wasn't lying when he said that." He stated evenly.  
  
They both looked down at the railing in silence, broken only by the sound of Quatre sighing as he rubbed his own temples.  
  
"Tro?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Do you by any chance have another cigarette on you?"  
  
---But I'm lost in this pain, and I don't have much time  
I'm so tired of walking this same old line  
So I'm taking my pride  
I hope that you decide  
To please let me breathe again,  
I'm sorry...  
  
Nervously Heero ran a hand through his unruly hair, his heart pounding in his chest as he approached the door that was currently the residence of one Duo Maxwell. Two nights ago Trowa, Quatre and Wufei had told him that they had indeed managed to track the elusive braided boy, but Duo refused to even talk about him when Wufei came by to visit, as well as try and convince him to come back. The three pilots had also explained to him all about Duo's conditions. Duo's   
-impossible- conditions, it seemed to the Perfect Soldier. At first Heero had tried to argue his point. They were soldiers, he said, and soldiers live to die for their mission. How would he be able to complete a necessary mission if he won't give up his life for it?  
  
Quatre had explained to him that it wasn't the dying part that was bothering Duo. It was the mere fact that Heero tended to decide on one option, which is to blow Wing and himself up into a thousand pieces, in order to complete an extremely difficult one. The blond boy had driven into him that all his lover was trying to ask out of him was for him to start having some sense of self-preservation and value. After all, Duo was never the first one among them to deal easily with Death, even if he did claim to be Shinigami himself.  
  
"All that Duo is trying to point out, Heero, is that you start valuing your life, just as much as you value your missions, because we all know which one really is much more valuable." Quatre's soft voice still echoed in his head as he reached for the doorknob and twisted it open, stealthily stepping inside the homey environment.  
  
He had done a lot of thinking, and finally, had decided that his and Duo's relationship was far more important than any other suicidal missions assigned to him. After all, those missions had given him nothing but mere chances to die. Duo, meanwhile, had given him a purpose, a purpose to complete his missions-unscathed-and, most importantly, a purpose to live.  
  
Duo was his life, and would still be, forever.  
  
He was the only reason why Heero was still breathing.  
  
All Heero had to do now was to persuade the braided boy of this.  
  
"Duo?"  
  
The slender figure lounging on a chair froze as Heero called out his name.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Slowly Duo Maxwell stood up and turned, the meter-long braid swishing behind him as he did so. That small innocent gesture almost sent Heero over to the edge. He longed to touch those silky-fine strands again. Wide, unbelieving blue-violet eyes met earnest Prussian ones. Thousands of words hung over them, endless streams of apologies from Heero, and a single word of acceptance from Duo.  
  
If Duo would decide to actually accept his apology, that is.  
  
His insides cringed at the thought of rejection.  
  
Seeing that Duo had nothing to say, at least at that moment, he cleared his throat and blurted out, desperately. "You're my life, koi. You're-you're the only reason that I'm even here now, alive now. You're the air that I breathe, Duo, the blood that flows in my veins. Please...please give me another chance..."  
  
Silence. Panic was rising inside Heero in waves, but he knew that there was nothing else he could do to try and convince the longhaired beauty standing quietly in front of him.  
  
He had done his part. Now it was all up to Duo to wrap everything up.  
  
---Baby (girl) don't leave me standing here  
I'm barely breathing (girl), I'm running out of air.  
Baby (girl) don't leave me standing here  
I'm barely breathing (girl) I'm running out of air...  
  
Full lips parted open to form a single word, and the four letters that he had uttered marked the beginning of a renewed relationship for them.   
  
And a new life for Heero.  
  
"Okay."  
  
  
OWARI  
  
FOOTNOTES: Finally, finally, FINALLY!!! * dances around in her underwear * I've managed to finish this thing!!! May this be the start of many more to come! Wooohooooooooo!!!!  
  
[1] I made assumptions about Wufei's working habits. I don't know if he actually LISTENS to the radio while working. It just seemed appropriate for the setting. ^_^  
  
Like it? Hate it? Let me know! 


End file.
